


If This Is Wrong, Then Right Be Damned

by Vampiyaa



Category: Labyrinth (1986)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, F/M, Fluff, Genderbending, Het, Humor, Romance, Smut, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-30
Updated: 2014-01-30
Packaged: 2018-01-10 13:06:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1160074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vampiyaa/pseuds/Vampiyaa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Never in all his years of ruling the Goblin Kingdom did Jareth think he'd fall in love— really fall in love. He never imagined just how torturous and confusing it would feel, but at the same time how fantastic. He also never imagined the one he'd fall for would be his new teenage servant boy. Rated M, maybe kinda silly :3 S/J - i mean it. AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If This Is Wrong, Then Right Be Damned

If This Is Wrong, Then Right Be Damned 

Jareth the Goblin King, majestic ruler of the Goblin Kingdom with a temper and ego that went hand in hand, could not believe that he’d fallen in love.

It had all started with a war between the Fae Kingdom and the Troll Kingdom. Naturally, as Jareth had predicted, it’d been about something utterly ridiculous— a scandalous love affair between the Troll Prince and some Fae noblewoman that enraged the Troll King, who (as all trolls do) saw fit to handle the situation by taking out his club and storming across the borders with his entire army. Since all Fae of lesser rank — peasants, servants etc — had been called for duty to be soldiers in the war alongside the knights, Jareth had lost all of his servants, his cook and his stable boy. 

At first, Jareth’s cocky demeanour convinced him that this was nothing more than a minor inconvenience/blessing in disguise, since the Castle Beyond the Goblin City was indeed a little quieter with them gone (though the Goblins naturally didn’t help). After the first week without servants, Jareth kicked his ego in the rear end and hunted throughout the Underground for new servants.

Jareth searched for weeks for replacement Fae, with no luck whatsoever, as everybody had been called into the army. Then, he’d been sitting in a tavern angrily tossing crystal balls at the wall and watching with a smirk as the other residents glanced nervously at him and deserted the tavern, when he felt a light tap on his shoulder and a voice said airily, “Excuse me, sir, but what are you doing?” 

Jareth turned around immediately, and his irritated mask dissolved immediately. The person who’d dared to touch him had been what appeared to be a young boy, with messy mahogany-coloured hair mostly hidden by a thin red and white striped hat, a baggy poet’s shirt and a pair of dusty trousers. His face had slightly rounded cheeks, girlishly plump lips and unusually long lashes framing a pair of absolutely _divine_ emerald-green eyes. Jareth couldn’t deduce what the boy’s age was— he was tall, though shorter than Jareth, but his voice hinted no masculinity and his face looked quite youthful. 

“You will address your Prince properly, foolish boy,” Jareth snapped, trying to intimidate the boy. 

“Apologies.” The boy swept into a far-too-graceful boy, one arm crossing over his flat chest. “Your Majesty.”

Jareth frowned at the child, wondering why this boy wasn’t trembling at the sight of him. “What is your name, boy?” 

“My name…” he paused. “My name is Sam, Your Majesty.”

Jareth studied him a moment longer. “What are you doing in a tavern? Clearly, you’re quite young.”

“I recently began working here, Your Majesty,” Sam responded. 

It was then that Jareth realized something. “You’re human!”

Sam gave him a sad half-smile and his eyes skimmed to the floor. “Yes. A Nokken kidnapped me from Aboveground nearly a year ago.”

“Have you means to get back?”

“Yes,” was the reply that stunned Jareth. “But I don’t want to go back. The Underground is beautiful, and it’s so magical.” A big, dimpled smile began on Sam’s face. The boy was quite feminine, Jareth noted. 

“Would you like employment in the Castle Beyond the Goblin City?” Jareth asked him, and he watched as Sam’s pools of emerald lit up in amazement.

“Really?” he gasped. “A castle?”

That’s how it all began. 

*

Nearly a month later, Jareth hadn’t seen much of Sam, but the condition of the castle was enough to keep Jareth from forgetting him. He noted with great interest that Sam’s work was better than the work of an entire team of servants. At first, Jareth had put Sam in charge of little things only; cleaning things, mucking out the stables, and even sometimes delivering packages to Goblins in the City. When Jareth realized that Sam would finish those tasks with quite a lot of time to spare, he entrusted the boy with more important things; paperwork, mostly, but sometimes even with looking after the horses. 

Jareth had worried that such a task would be quite difficult for Sam, being human and a young lad. The horses that Jareth’s stables contained were what people had dubbed ‘Demon horses’ because of their aggressive nature, shiny black coats and glowing red eyes, and Jareth was anxious that Sam would be harmed. 

Little Sam gave Jareth the shock of his life when the Goblin King hurried down to the stables and found him feeding the horses apples, petting them and grooming them all without complaint. 

One particularly memorable event was when Jareth had been sitting in his throne room, idly tossing crystal balls at Goblins and waiting for his dinner. Jareth had hand-chosen one of the more intelligent/sane Goblins as the chef, but he didn’t completely trust the Goblin.

Three Goblins came zooming into the throne room carrying his silver tray, which was covered in something that looked suspiciously like mud. Apparently, the three Goblins had hijacked the kitchens, and his meal. At this Jareth frowned and sighed— no doubt when Jareth would go down to the kitchens he’d find his Goblin chef locked in the oven or something. 

“What is this?” he drawled moodily, glaring at the three of them.

One of them lifted up the lid to reveal an assortment of rocks (the side dish) and a large pile of drying mud. “Mud pie, Kingy.” 

Just as Jareth was standing up to kick them all out the window he heard a musical giggle, and he turned to see Sam in the doorway holding another silver tray in his slender hands, a smile on his mouth. 

“Good evening, Your Majesty,” he said, taking a step into the throne room. “I couldn’t help but overhear the racket your Goblins were making in the kitchen, not to mention the fact that one of them kept throwing mud through the window. You may want to check on your chef,” he added with a grin.

“What is he locked in this time?” Jareth sighed, giving the three Goblins a death glare.

“Actually, he’s hanging upside-down from the ceiling,” Sam said uncertainly. “I think the Goblins were using him as a piñata and hitting him with spoons.” He brightened. “For you, Your Majesty.” 

Jareth frowned confusedly and took the tray. He lifted the lid and gawked down in astonishment at an elaborate, almost professionally made, steaming meal.

“Wha—?” cracked out of his mouth.

“Unless, of course, you’d rather eat the mud pie, Your Majesty,” Sam grinned, placing one hand on his rather curved hip. 

Jareth smirked at the boy’s audacity (and culinary skills) and said, “I’m genuinely impressed, Sam. You’ve done wonderfully.” 

Jareth’s smirk faltered slightly and his heart skipped a beat when a becoming strawberry-pink blush kissed Sam’s cheeks, and his eyes skimmed to the floor shyly. “Thank you, Your Majesty. Is there anything more I can do?” 

A thousand excuses to get Sam to stay in his company flashed before his eyes, each weaker and more stupid than the previous. Finally, “No, Sam, you may retire for the evening.”

But Sam didn’t move. “If I may, Majesty, I stumbled across a library in the west wing. Might I… um…” his face reddened, “… might I have your permission explore it?”

“Of course,” Jareth said, unable to stop a genuine smile from gracing his mouth when Sam’s eyes lit up again. “But do not let it distract you from your duties.” 

“Never, Majesty!” said Sam excitedly, before bouncing out of the room. “Goodnight!” 

Jareth stood motionlessly for a few minutes, simply watching the spot where Sam disappeared and smiling. The only thing that broke him out of his reverie was a Goblin commenting, “Queenie.” 

He frowned down at the Goblin who’d spoken. “What?”

“Queenie,” it repeated, pointing towards the direction where Sam had exited.

Jareth’s first reaction was a stab of shock, then confusion, and then he rolled his eyes and slumped into his throne. “Imbecile, that’s a male child.” He tucked into his dinner.

*

That very night Jareth was walking down to his bedchambers, when he spotted Sam leaning against the wall directly beside Jareth’s bedroom door, shifting uncomfortably and wringing his old poet shirt between his hands. 

“M-Majesty!” he stammered in alarm, looking almost scared of Jareth. That observation made him frown— Sam had never been frightened of him before.

“Is something amiss, child?” Jareth said warily. 

Sam took a nervous step away from him. “W-well, it’s just… I mean… I can’t work here anymore, Majesty.”

Jareth’s jaw dropped open, and a crashing wave of dread pooled in his stomach. “Wh-what?”

“You frighten me.”

Sam said it so harshly it actually made Jareth flinch; his words pricked at his heart and made him stare in horror. Without even contemplating what he was doing Jareth hurried forward and swept the child into a tight and desperate embrace, trembling as the thought of Sam leaving him made him feel sick to his stomach. 

“Don’t leave!” Jareth begged, suddenly unable to breathe. “You can’t leave me!” 

“Majesty…”

“I’m sorry I frighten you!” Jareth moaned, barely hearing Sam speak until the child grabbed him by the shoulders, pushed him a foot away and said loudly, “ _Majesty_.”

Jareth blinked confusedly, his eyes trailed unconsciously to Sam’s soft, parted lips and he suddenly noticed that their faces were only inches apart. 

“I’m not leaving,” Sam said suddenly, all trace of previous fear replaced by confusion. 

“But… you said…” Jareth stammered stupidly, before one gloved hand made its way into Sam’s short mahogany hair and his lips crashed onto the boy’s. At first Sam was rigid, and then a split second later the boy’s 

head fell back and his lips happily opened for Jareth. 

A brief thought of how the Fae Court would react if they knew Jareth had fallen in love with an adolescent _human_ and _male_ child, and then thought ceased in his mind when he felt Sam’s kitten-tongue hesitantly lick at Jareth’s lips. Jareth groaned when he managed to make Sam sigh against his mouth simply by skimming one of his thumbs over Sam’s neck. When Jareth moved his lips down to skim kisses down the soft skin of his throat, Sam’s knees gave out and the two of them dropped onto the ground, Jareth on top of the boy.

“Precious little Sam,” Jareth murmured against his neck, shuddering when Sam’s fingers slipped into his shirt and skimmed over his muscles. “I love you.”

And then Jareth woke with a muffled cry of alarm, his body tangled within the Egyptian silk sheets. He sat up, feeling and listening to the rapid thumping of his heartbeat, and he stared into the darkness with his mouth open and eyes wide. His whole body felt sticky with perspiration, and a feeling of horror was pooling in his stomach. How could he dream of such a thing? In his dream he’d almost had sex with the child— who was male, no less! Never before in his extremely long life had he felt even the slightest amount of affection toward another male— in fact half the men he met amused him, as Jareth was a threat to them. 

Jareth growled when he noticed the painful throbbing in his loins, and silently scolded himself for his sick thoughts. That was it, he decided, he would remain as far away from Sam as possible.

*

Such a task proved to be quite difficult, seeing as Sam somehow turned up _everywhere_ Jareth went. The boy would be at the end of a hallway or in the corner of a room Jareth had entered; he’d turned around almost gracefully, gifting Jareth with a glance from his utterly _magnificent_ green eyes, lashes fluttering and then a smile would start on those damnably lush lips and he’d happily say, “Hello, Your Majesty!” 

Every time, Jareth searched for a trace, a hint that might suggest Sam was frightened by him. He never once saw even a single glimmer of fear, and that both thrilled and bothered him. Jareth didn’t even know what Sam would look like with the expression of fear on his face.

Until the day his father visited his Castle, and Sam was the unfortunate first to greet him. 

His appearance at first startled Sam, but when he saw the resemblance between him and His Majesty, he smiled warmly. 

“Welcome, Your Highness,” Sam said graciously, bowing his far-too-graceful-for-a-male bow. 

His Majesty’s father frowned down at the boy, and the frown was unbelievably similar to that of his son, except that His Highness’s frown radiated with hostility whilst Jareth’s was more for curiosity or when studying something intently. “You, boy— who are you?”

“My name is Sam, Your Highness,” he answered promptly, his smile unaffected by the High King’s obvious rudeness. “I am a servant.”

The High King’s frown deepened as he studied Sam closely, and then without warning Sam was shoved out of the way with a grumble of, “Stupid human boy, wasting my time…” 

Sam stumbled but caught himself and straightened up again, willing himself not to scowl. His Majesty’s father was beyond rude— he was insufferable! 

“Father?” said Jareth in both shock and annoyance. “What is it this time?” 

“Don’t use that tone with me,” scolded His Highness, and Sam stifled a giggle at how parental he sounded. “You’ve ignored your mother’s invitations to the Autumn Ball, _again_. What purpose does it serve to hole up in your chicken infested Castle every year instead of fraternising with your own kind?”

“Perhaps it is because the Autumn Ball is a pointless celebration of an Aboveground season that we don’t even have in the Underground,” Jareth said sarcastically, and Sam heard the shuffling of papers. “If you don’t mind, Father, I’d like to get back to work ignoring Mother’s invitations.” 

“Ah yes, ‘work’,” Sam heard His Highness sneer indignantly. “You haven’t much to do around here other than play games, kick goblins out of windows and frolic around with that annoying little human servant boy.” 

The air around the castle suddenly seemed to freeze, and Sam actually took a step back when feeling burning rage emanating from the partially visual room. “Excuse me?”

“You know, the servant brat, Shawn or whatever the hell his name is,” said His Highness impatiently. 

“His name is _Sam_ ,” Jareth snapped. “Now get out.”

“Oh by the Gods, tell me you haven’t grown _fond_ of the mortal?”

There was a crash. “I said _get out_!” 

The door swung open suddenly and His Highness stormed out, knocking into Sam and this time sending him flying into the wall, his forehead colliding with the stone. 

“Sam?” 

Blinking away blurriness from the pain, Sam looked up to see His Majesty standing before him, looking horrified. Sam hurriedly scrambled up off the floor and replied, “Yes, Majesty?” 

“Are… are you hurt?” Jareth stammered, frowning with concern that made Sam smile. 

“No, Majesty,” he laughed. “It was just a bump, that’s all.” 

“Foolish son of mine,” growled His Highness. 

“I thought I told you to get out,” Jareth said angrily, giving his father a death glare.

“Perhaps you were mistaken,” said His Highness airily. “Though _I_ was not. I’m disgusted with you Jareth. You actually care for a _mortal_ — and a male, no less!”

His Highness glared daggers at Sam, who didn’t cower but simply blinked uncertainly. 

“The thing should be sent back Aboveground where it belongs,” Jareth’s father continued in disgust. “You’ve already a chicken infestation— you needn’t a human plague as well.” 

He raised his hand and conjured up a crystal ball with the flick of his wrist, before tossing it in Sam’s direction. It popped in front of the boy’s face like a bubble, and upon breathing in Sam’s throat immediately closed. Jareth watched in horror as Sam clutched at his throat, making tiny desperate choking noises. 

“WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO?” Jareth roared, hurriedly catching the boy when he almost fell backwards. 

“I simply removed his lungs,” said his father breezily, tugging on his glove. 

With a cry of disgust Jareth too flicked his wrist, and Sam gulped in grateful gasps of air while Jareth cradled his face with two gloved hands. “Are you all right?” 

Sam nodded, swallowing hard. “I’m fine, Majesty.”

“Revolting,” His Highness scoffed, and Jareth stood protectively in front of Sam, who was now clinging to Jareth’s sleeve. 

“Leave immediately,” Jareth snarled, his fist clenching. “Before I render you unable to biologically maintain life.”

As His Highness disappeared with a grunt, despite all that happened Sam giggled. Jareth frowned down at him and almost shouted, “What’s so funny?”

“You just said you’d kill His Highness in such a cavalier manner,” he grinned, before gasping when Jareth swept him into a crushing embrace. 

“Damn it, child, how the hell can you be laughing when my father nearly killed you?” Jareth half-shouted, resisting the urge to shake the insanity out of the boy. 

Sam responded by raising one arm and cupping Jareth’s cheek. As the Goblin King blinked stupidly in shock, Sam beamed at him. “He didn’t though, Majesty, and I have you to thank for it. We mustn’t dwell on what could have been.”

Sam took a step back and bowed gracefully. “If you will excuse me, Majesty, I will retire for the evening.” 

Jareth watched the servant boy walk with a loping grace down the hallway, his heart thumping a rhythm against his ribcage. In that split second just between Sam disappearing behind a corner and Jareth’s realization that he’d forgotten to breathe, Jareth knew his dream had been spot-on. 

“I’m in love with a human boy,” Jareth whispered. 

*

It was after his own realization that Jareth suddenly began to notice every little detail about Sam that might suggest his love wasn’t one sided. The boy would bring him dinner, and there’d be so much effort put into it Jareth could swear Sam had slaved over the oven for hours. Sometimes Sam would gather paperwork for him or fetch a book, and every time Sam handed them to Jareth he was certain he could see an elegant blush sweep over the boy’s cheeks if their fingers just happened to touch. He’d sometimes grip onto Jareth’s sleeve as though he were a babe. The boy seemed to be smiling differently— he’d always strolled around with a big grin on his face, eager to please, but this time his smiles seemed more affectionate, sometimes shy and hesitant, and at times Jareth would bet his life that Sam was batting his lashes at him. 

Jareth was pretty sure that his own feelings towards Sam were making his eyes play tricks on him, but after all, it didn’t hurt to dream. So Jareth mimicked his imagination and allowed himself little touches, sometimes curling one mahogany lock around his finger, sometimes putting his hand on the boy’s shoulder ever-so-close to his marvellous neck, and his most favourite of all was when he leaned down and teasingly murmured something into his ear, and Sam would blush becomingly. 

It was after weeks of sexual torment and teasing himself to the point of insanity that Jareth realized something. He’d leaned over while Sam had had his back turned to breathe in that wonderful scent of his, like fresh spring air and some unidentifiable sweet thing, and then it’d hit him: not once to Jareth’s knowledge has Sam used the bathing chambers. 

That most definitely peaked Jareth’s interest and curiosity enough to put together an absolutely insane plan. Sam excused himself for the night with a sweeping bow yet again, only this time when he elegantly walked down the hallway he had no idea His Majesty was following him in the shadows. Jareth watched curiously as Sam entered his servant quarters, leaving the door swung open and allowing Jareth to slip in silently. In the darkness Jareth heard Sam sigh, and he found himself wishing for the thousandth time that he wanted to make that sound come from between those raspberry-coloured lips. Jareth watched as Sam idly lit a candle, his face serene against the orange, flickering glow. 

“Queenie going beddy-bye?” came a voice that could only belong to a Goblin, and Sam sighed again. 

“I told you to stop calling me that, Nogg,” he said quietly. “And not just yet. I think I’ll bathe first.” 

Jareth felt a rush of excitement; what luck! He watched as Sam dug through his dresser before pulling out what looked like… no it couldn’t be… a _nightgown_?! Jareth blinked rapidly, thinking it must be the darkness, and greedily followed Sam back into the hallway in the direction of the bathing chambers. The candles in the chamber lit magically, casting a relaxing glow on the sparkling white-marble walls. The colossal bathing tub was large enough to fit at least twelve people comfortably, and the jewelled taps turned on immediately to gush colourful water. The chamber immediately filled with a delicious scent— it was that sweet smell Sam always had! Jareth moved in for a better look as Sam stretched, his back arching deliciously, before his hands rose to that red and white striped hat he insisted on wearing. 

Jareth wasn’t expecting a tumble of sleek long hair to plummet down to Sam’s waist, shimmering and soft. He watched in shock as Sam idly combed out his long hair with his fingers, looking more like a girl now than ever before. Then his hands gripped the bottom of his baggy poet’s shirt and pulled it above his head, revealing something similar to a corset— except instead of shaping feminine curves this one went from his chest to his waist, making him appear more stick-like. Jareth had already numbly realized the truth even before Sam slipped off the girdle and revealed it all.

Sam was a _woman_ , Jareth thought dazedly, a strange buzzing noise ringing in his ears. She had the customary small waist of a woman who’d just entered adulthood, but marvellously wide hips that Jareth ached to run his hands over. The arch of her back was beautiful, her skin looking as pale as alabaster and smooth as porcelain, and when those slender hands Jareth had always admired slipped those offending trousers off of her lower body Jareth could immediately see _everything_. A pert little backside barely covered by a pair of silk panties, and long curved legs that Jareth wished would wrap around his waist. And when she turned around — Gods Above, be merciful — a pair of perfectly rounded, smooth breasts taunted Jareth, basically begging to be squeezed and played with.

What Jareth had mistaken for boyish youth was actually feminine maturity, and for some reason this brought up a flare of irritation. He’d spent the last few months terrified, nervous, confused and upset that he might be in love with a teenage boy, when in truth ‘Sam’ had been a fully-grown woman who’d lied about his gender and caused Jareth torment? 

The woman gasped in alarm when she was pinned by both wrists to the wall, bare breasts pushed painfully against the cold marble. Jareth leaned down close to her ear and snarled, “Have you been hiding something from me, _boy_?”

“M-Majesty—” she stammered, before her breath hitched when Jareth’s front pressed against her backside.

“Naughty little Sam,” he growled, clicking his tongue in disapproval. “I’ll have to punish you severely, little one. Lying to your Master is risking imprisonment.”

Jareth frowned when he felt her relax against him, and that musical sigh blew from her lips again. “Please forgive me, Your Majesty, it was never my intention to deceive you. I’ve been disguising myself as a young boy to find work. I could never find decent jobs as a woman.”

“How do I know to trust you, precious?” Jareth murmured just over her throat, smirking when she shivered at her new pet name. “I don’t even know if your name is really Sam, or if you’re really only thirteen.”

“It’s not,” she said. “My name is Sarah. I’m actually nineteen.” 

“Sarah, Sarah, Sarah…” Jareth chanted, both to tease her and to experiment with how her name sounded coming from his lips. 

“Majesty, have I ever truly given you a reason not to trust me, besides pretending to be a different gender?” Sarah said quietly.

_Yes_ , growled a voice in the back of his mind, _you put me through Hell and dragged me back again, kept me wondering whether or not I was attracted to a male child…_

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” Jareth whispered, ignoring her question. “Why couldn’t you have been truthful with me?” 

He felt Sarah slump against him in shame. Then, in a shaky voice, “B-because I thought you wouldn’t like me anymore if you knew I was a girl.” 

Jareth stared at the back of her head in astonishment, her words leaving him speechless. Then he grew angry again. “Foolish girl, I spent months thinking I was in love with a little boy.” He heard Sarah gasp but paid it no attention. “You’re going to be punished, boy or not.” 

He yanked off one of his gloves with more force than necessary and slid his bare hand over one soft breast, groaning with approval. He squeezed experimentally, hearing her whimper delightfully; he flicked one already stiffened nipple with the tip of his thumb and heard her moan.

“Majesty…” poured out of her mouth pleadingly. 

“ _No_!” he shouted angrily, squeezing her breast roughly enough to make her cry out— in pain or pleasure, he wasn’t sure which. “ _My name is Jareth_!” 

He whirled her around and devoured those lips that had tormented him for months, sucking on them as though drawing sustenance. She tasted of sugar, magic (if that even had a taste) and something that reminded Jareth of delectably aged and chilled wine. He sipped at her lips as if they were candy, and when one of Sarah’s flawless thin hands slipped into his hair he felt her pull back slightly. Just as he was about to groan in disapproval her lips moved, tickling his slightly, and she whispered, “ _Jareth_.” 

He paused, blinking stupidly from dumbfounded shock, his brain suddenly stopping coherent thought. Sensing his moment of idiocy, Sarah took control; she pinned him to the wall by his shoulders and bit down on his neck savagely, and Jareth cried out in ecstasy when he felt her teeth break the skin. They both fought for control, becoming a mess of frenzied hands trying to touch, grip and hold. 

“ _Sarah_ ,” he growled loudly and clearly, and at the sound of her name she shuddered with animalistic excitement, surrendering to him as he forced her silk panties out of his way and jammed two fingers into her soaking entrance. She jerked at the sudden violation and her head fell back against his shoulder, her mouth open in bliss though no sound came out. 

“Jareth…”

She was unusually tight around his fingers, and though Jareth had earlier suspected she must be a virgin he still felt a stab of dread at the thought of having to hurt her. His free hand slipped up her stomach and gently skimmed over her breast, as though trying to console her about the upcoming pain (though he was the only one who seemed remotely worried about it). 

“Maj— Jareth… please… you… I—” Sarah stammered out incoherently, before moaning when he pressed down firmly on her clit to shut her up. 

“I love you.”

Two gasps synced together, and both of them froze and stared at each other with astonishment. Neither of them was sure who’d said it first, but they knew that they’d both said it. In the split second it took them to feel shock their lips crashed together again, only this time when Jareth’s hands eagerly travelled to her naked skin Sarah knocked them away with a noise of annoyance; her own hands grabbed his shirt and yanked it over his head, stunning him for a brief moment. That moment ended all too abruptly when her frenzied, impatient hands tore at his breeches as well, shoving them down to reveal the immense effect she had on him. 

For yet another split second Jareth was worried he’d frighten her — she was by no doubt a virgin — but that prospect was wiped clean from his mind when Sarah dropped to her knees and took him completely in her mouth, and the feeling of having her wet, warm mouth around him made him cry out with accord. He began to move with her uncontrollably, his hips following the movements of her lips, and when he struggled to remain silent she retaliated by bringing the tip of him to the back of her throat and clenching around him. 

“Fuck, woman,” Jareth hissed at her move— if she did that again there was no way he’d last another minute. She pulled away slowly and gently, her lips trailing over him before releasing with a soft pop, and she whispered, “I already am, _Jareth_.” 

With one final growl that startled them both he pinned her high up on the wall, letting her legs rest on his shoulders before his tongue was introduced to her core. She was slick and wet almost to the point where he couldn't find her clit, but a careful hearing of her moans and gasps allowed him to find the elusive bud, carefully parting her lips to scrape his teeth against it. She cried out and bucked her hips, one hand fisting in his hair to the point where Jareth groaned from the pleasing pain. 

“God, Jareth,” she hissed, her hand massaging his scalp where she now knew was sensitive. He wondered idly how she made him fall in love with her, even when he was sure she was a boy, before he realized she’d said his name. 

“Oh please, say it again,” he begged her, willing to rip out his heart to hear it again. 

“I'll scream it from the tallest tower of the castle if you stop being a tease,” Sarah grunted, smothering a cry when he slipped two fingers into her and curled them slightly. 

Whatever spot he hit must have been magical because she found herself climaxing, thrashing on the wall till she felt his hands tracing soothing patterns across her thighs, easing her legs down from his shoulders. 

She paused to catch her breath and chase away the unwelcome languidness that was taking over her body. She — _they_ — were not done, not by a long shot. Catching him by surprise she managed to escape the prison of his hold and whirled him around, so that he was the one held captive against the wall and one of her legs was wrapped provocatively around his bare hips. Sarah practically sat astride him, making sure to keep anything important from touching. 

Sarah had always known Jareth was a muscled man (hell, it was more than obvious with or without his shirt on), but there was a sinewy quality to his strong frame, something that spoke to her of power and ability that sent a thrill shuddering down her spine. She wanted that power to _destroy her_.

Her fingers dipped into the hollow of his throat, feeling him swallow what was most likely a curse when she teasingly lowered herself enough to feel the length of him brush against her curls. 

“I want to consume you,” he replied, hands grabbing her ass roughly and pulling her down on his lap, moaning at the contact. “Let me have you, _please_.” 

How delicious, Sarah thought, it was only this morning that the Goblin King would _never_ ask permission for _anything_ , especially from a servant— and now she’d reduced him to a quivering mess, not only asking permission but _begging, pleading_ for it. She bent down, hair hiding their face as she placed a butterfly-soft kiss on his lips with a touch of tongue, tasting herself there. 

“Yes,” she whispered against his mouth, a hand snaking down to guide him into her. 

She was hot and tight and either it had been a very, very long time since he'd been inside a woman or Sarah was utterly, completely perfect. Both, probably. Jareth tried with all the self control he had in the Underground to push into her as slowly as possible, swallowing yet another curse when he pierced through her virgin flesh and saw her wince slightly. 

“Are you in pain?” Jareth whispered, disgusted with himself. How could he?

“No— it’s just… different,” she soothed, comforting him by leaning over and breathing in his scent. 

Jareth kept his body still, refusing to let that _goddamn_ urge to buck his hips overpower him, although he almost lost control when she shifted position, her walls loosening slightly around him. 

“Damn it, Goblin King, if you don’t move immediately I’ll put you in an Oubliette and leave you there!” Sarah growled, her earlier respect for his title wiped away.

With a violent shudder Jareth’s control crumbled, and his hips immediately rocked in and out of her. He heard her moan faintly, throwing her head back as they both sought a rhythm they liked, and despite Sarah’s just-revoked virgin status she seemed to be the most eager, taking control by thrusting her hips upward. He was content to let her set the pace, watching her ride him with a sort of savage pleasure he wouldn't have associated with her usually gentle nature. His hands settled on her hips, kneading at the flesh there, trying to speak through touch, telling her how lovely, divine, _gorgeous_ she was, and how beautiful she looked atop him, fucking him senseless. He heard some of his Goblins muttering in the corridor outside the bathroom door, but he was beyond caring, and it didn't matter to him if every single Goblin under his employment had front-row seats to witness ‘Kingy’ being fucked by ‘Queenie’, as long as it meant he could keep Sarah on top of him forever. She was a goddess towering over him and he felt like her most fervent supplicant, ready to worship her for the rest of his days despite the knowledge that he was the King. She was relentless, setting a gruelling pace that somehow left him on the edge of pleasure but didn't push him over it. He was glad of it, a part of him never wanting to orgasm, never wanted this beautiful moment in time to end, because no matter how hard he tried Jareth knew he would never be able to recreate that night. He just wanted to be pinned to that wall for the rest of the day (perhaps even longer than that), watching as Sarah rocked back and forth, mercilessly gripping his cock as she took her pleasure from him. He'd never had sex like that before, even way back when his responsibilities as ruler hadn’t yet been handed to him. It was… feral. Almost desperate, rough, hard and exquisite and when her inner muscles fluttered around him, signalling her orgasm, he finally found his own release.

The force of her climax forced her eyes shut, her emerald jewels disappearing momentarily as every part of her skin rippled as though made of water, mouth open to cry out in ecstasy from the first intercourse-related orgasm of her life. Jareth triumphantly managed to catch every second of it before his climax forced his own eyes shut. The aftermath left him weak and sweaty and with a chest-full of Sarah, formerly Sam the servant boy, snuggling into him, no doubt shaken herself. He enjoyed the feeling of her nose as it nuzzled against his throat, her low hum of pleasure and the fact that he was still blessedly enveloped in her heat, not yet having pulled out and never wanting to.

“I love you,” they both breathed out in sync for the second time, once again startling each other. “You—” they tried again, before laughing.

“Let’s just leave it at that, shall we?” Sarah grinned, nudging his nose with her own. 

“Oh no, precious little Sarah,” Jareth said briskly, sweeping her into his arms. “There is much more to be said than that, and I’m afraid the list is extensive enough that the universe may end before it is complete.” Sarah giggled. “I’ll begin with precious, stunning, dearest soul-love, my angel, Sarah-mine—”

“My Goblin King, my ruler, my _God_ ,” Sarah retaliated in a husky voice, causing him to shudder. “My handsome, sweet, powerful king… Jareth-love,” she added softly, and Jareth groaned with pleasure at his new nickname. 

“Minx,” he hissed, before spotting the red and white striped beanie hat that had been tossed idly on the ground. “Precious, why are you so infatuated with that hat?” 

“It was my baby brother’s,” Sarah replied, idly tracing patterns on his neck and smiling at his hum of pleasure. “He gave it to me to keep just before I left the Aboveground.”

“Will you ever go back?” Jareth asked quietly, silently panicking and hoping it didn’t show on his face. 

Apparently it did, because Sarah grabbed his face with both of her slender hands and glared at him. “Majesty, you listen good— I’m not leaving. Understand?”

“Yes Mistress,” said Jareth gallantly, though he was genuinely relieved. “But if you ever call me that again I’ll have to chain you to my bed and swat your arse.”

“Jareth, you will do no such thing—” Sarah began to scold, before her expression changed to consideration. “Well, maybe once…” 

Jareth laughed like he hadn’t since he was a child. What a woman his servant boy was!

**Author's Note:**

> All my fics can be found on fanfiction.net. Hope you liked, please kudos/comment! 
> 
> Since it's clear I forgot to put it in the A/N when I first posted it: this was inspired by a OUAT fic on fanfiction.net, Sapsorrow86's "Strangely Alarming". Sorry for not putting that in at the start.


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